


i will never forget you; you will always be by my side

by andromedastars



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - The Little Mermaid Fusion, Angst, Baking, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Mild Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Painting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedastars/pseuds/andromedastars
Summary: Alexander Hamilton and Elizabeth Schuyler. The shining sun and the heavenly moon. Two different people, yet inseperable in every way.---A collection of writing for 31 prompts for Hamliza Month over on Instagram!
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Day 1: Baking

**Author's Note:**

> The Mature rating is only for Day 4: Candlelight. Everything else should be relatively PG-13. And the Major Character Death is for Day 19: Pain. I don't think anyone is gonna die in the other chapters sooooo.
> 
> Anyways megpeggs and historysalt on Instagram are doing Hamliza Month once more so . . .
> 
> Images will be linked since I spent ten minutes trying to link images and then I gave up. I'll specify whether each prompt features Musical!Hamliza or Historical!Hamliza. Keep in mind this jumps around a lot lol.
> 
> Title is from the song "Never Forget You" by Zara Larsson feat. MNEK.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexander and Eliza bake apple tart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by the fact that my friends and i DID bake apple tart for our french final. it was delicious and we very much enjoyed it. also the recipe hamliza uses is almost the same we did because i'm not about to invent a whole recipe on my own.  
> \--  
> this is historical!hamliza! corresponding image is [here!](https://www.instagram.com/p/CIRI2A0jPQa/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link)

_"my hands pluck the things i know that i'll need / i take the sugar and butter from the pantry / i add the flour to begin what i am hoping to start / and then it's down with the recipe / and bake from the heart"  
\- _"opening up" _, waitress_

Alexander stared at all the ingredients he and Eliza had bought the day prior. She had promised that one day they would make her mother’s famous apple tart (or so the Schuylers claimed), but they had been very busy, both of them with schoolwork and Alexander with his internship underneath George Washington. However, they had found time in both of their schedules to actually bake something. Now that they were available, Alexander felt a sort of . . . dread? Well, that wasn’t right. Dread was for things like finals and job interviews, things that actually held weight. This was just baking.

Still he felt like he’d mess everything up. He wasn’t actually terrible at cooking, having taught himself once his childhood had gone to shit, and he was the designated cook between the four of his roommates. However, cooking and baking were two different things. There was much he had to learn, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Eliza.

Speaking of Eliza, she walked into the kitchen, over to Alexander, and kissed him on the cheek. “Ready to bake?” she asked.

“Not really, no.”

“Ah, the brave and talented Alexander Hamilton, is not prepared to bake?”

He rolled his eyes. “The law is very different from life skills such as baking, and you know that.”

“I would argue that cooking is more of a life skill than baking is.”

“And I would debate you on that.”

Eliza laughed, and kissed him on the nose. “You’re free to debate me any time.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” he replied, smiling. “I’m just nervous, you know?”

“Don’t worry,” she said, her eyes scanning over the ingredients. “There’s nothing to get wrong in baking. Well, actually, there might be a few things, but--”

“You’re not helping.”

She smirked. “Just follow my lead, and I think we’ll be fine.”

~*~

Eliza noted that Alexander was picking up on baking easily. Not that she didn’t think he wouldn’t, but he seemed like a natural.

“I am doing this correctly, right?” he asked as he whisked the dry ingredients together.

“Course you are. Really, you can’t go wrong with mixing things.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that.”

She laughed, and continued peeling and cutting the apples.

It was nice that they finally had some time to themselves, what with college and Alexander’s internship and the hecticness that was their lives. Sometimes one did have to stop and smell the strawberries, or whatever the phrase was. And it was also nice that Alexander was venturing outside of his comfort zone. She supposed that it was an Alexander thing to do, to be brave, but then again, outside his comfort zone usually meant overworking himself to do more and more complicated tasks for George Washington. Not things like baking (or one of the many other things their friends had pressured them into doing).

Still, Eliza was impressed with how smoothly Alexander seemed to be mixing the ingredients together.

They did, however, hit their first bump when they were trying to knead the dough.

“Is it supposed to be this flaky?” he asked, frowning as he lifted up what appeared to be the world’s crumbliest dough.

“No it really shouldn’t be,” she replied, walking over to study the dough. It was definitely unwise to be walking over with a knife (hey, there were a lot of apples to cut), but this wasn’t really on her mind. “Probably used too little water.”

“I was supposed to use water?”

Despite Alexander’s shocked (and maybe a little saddened) expression, she started laughing. Each time she tried to stop, it kept coming back, which probably wasn’t helping Alexander’s self-esteem at all. “I-I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I really shouldn’t be--pffft!”

Eventually she pulled herself together and walked over to hug her boyfriend. “I’m sorry, that was mean of me.”

He shrugged. “I mean, it was kind of funny.”

“Yeah, but--”

“Eliza, you wonderful, wonderful woman, I was not too hurt in any way, shape, or form, by your laughing.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, in any case, that was probably not exactly the best thing to do.”

“Okay, okay, it was also a bit embarrassing.”

She gave him a peck on the cheek, savoring this little moment between them. They would’ve kissed except for the fact that they had a tart to finish.

(And some apricot preserves to buy, though they didn’t know it yet.)

~*~

“Saved by Peggy!” Alexander said, smirking as Eliza walked back in with a jar of apricot preserves.

“Yeah, I can’t believe I forgot about the apricot preserves. That was like, the big thing about Mama’s apple tart.”

“Well, we all make mistakes, do we not?”

She shrugged. “I suppose so. Now, let’s make this tart.”

There were several more mishaps, such as Alexander burning himself with the oven (“Where’s the ice, where’s the ice--” - Eliza), forgetting to preheat the oven (“What temperature?” - Alex; “Uh, uh, uh, 350 degrees!” - Eliza), and Alexander mishearing 60 minutes as 16 minutes. But, in the end, they were finished.

Eliza took the tart out of the oven and placed it down in front of Alexander. “Well, now we wait for it to cool down. In the meantime, I have an idea of what we could do . . .”

Alexander laughed. “My, my, what a saucy tongue you have, Miss Schuyler.” Which earned him a playful smack on the shoulder.

For the next twenty or so minutes, they watched YouTube, made out a little, and pretended they were in various Shakespeare plays.

“What, you egg?” Eliza said, before pretending to stab Alexander.

“Oh, woe is me, I’ve been betrayed by my lover, my confidante, my paramour!” Alexander said, falling to the floor dramatically.

She snorted. “Pretty sure that’s not in the play, Alex.”

“Well, I can have a little creative liberty, can I not?”

“If liberties must be taken, they must be taken,” she responded, grinning. “Now then, take it from here!”

It ended in a comedic sort of way, with both of them on the floor laughing and then kissing a little more.

“You’re so beautiful with flour on your nose,” she said, brushing her lips against his.

Alexander had not bothered to look into a mirror and so scrunched his (apparently flour-covered) nose. “I have what on my what now?”

“Flour. On your nose. Want a mirror?”

“No no, I believe you.” He scrunched his nose again, before sneezing. “Better?”

She frowned and reached up, wiping away something. “Better,” she said afterwards.

He held her close, watching her intently as they just stayed in this moment. She was so lovely, her black eyes, though plain, stood out against her pure beauty. It complimented her. How lucky he was to have her! A few months ago, he’d have laughed if you told him he would be dating Elizabeth Schuyler, the black-eyed beauty of New York. But the dream had come true. He was holding Eliza in his arms. She was staring at him with a level of adoration unmatched by any other, and he was staring back all the same. Sometimes he had to hold her close, tightly, to make sure it wasn’t a dream. And Eliza would whisper in his ears, a lilting French, the few words she knew, “ _Non, c’est vrai_.” No, it’s true. It was true, the delight that was Eliza. It was true that he’d escaped the hell of his childhood, and made it to New York. It was true, the love, the warmth, the joy his friends and family brought to him. None of it was a dream. It was all real.

What was also real was the ding of the alarm telling them that their tart must’ve cooled down. Breaking away from Eliza, he leaned in and asked, “Shall we now go consume the fruit of our labors?”

“Absolutely.”

And so they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahahaha i will be working on this for the next month bc this is my account and i decide the comfort ship
> 
> i'll try to get the next chapter of tdt up sometime soon but no promises BUT this is not about tdt this is about hamliza so
> 
> anyways let me know what you think!


	2. Day 2: Painting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John, Eliza, and Alex attempt to follow a Bob Ross video with varying levels of success

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally this was supposed to be "hamliza with a bit of elams if you squint," but then it just turned into full on elams and i am not sorry. maybe a little bit.  
> \---  
> this is musical!hamliza, corresponding image is [here.](https://www.instagram.com/p/CITurFcjod3/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link)

_ "if i lay here, if i just lay here / would you lie with me and just forget the world?"  
_ \- "chasing cars", _ snow patrol _

Eliza picked up what looked like a tiny spatula and frowned at it. “Do we really need all this?”

“Well, if Bob Ross uses it . . .” Alexander said, also staring at it.

“Oh, is that why you bought every single Bob Ross color known to humankind?”

He shrugged. “Never can have too much paint, can you?”

She rolled her eyes. Painting would be new for them, for the both of them. Though Eliza did enjoy doodling, she’d never taken on the endeavor of painting before. The visual arts were not the Schuylers’ strong suits (unless you counted the many fascinating drawings of young Cornelia Schuyler), so many of them either took to a different subject entirely (Angelica, Peggy, Philip), or focused on a different branch of the arts (Eliza, John, Rensselaer). She herself was partial to the piano and French horn.

“Hey!” A voice startled her, belonging to John Laurens. He’d agreed to help them if they needed it, plus they rather enjoyed his company.

She grinned. “Jacks!” Though she supposed she didn’t mind the nickname “Johnny boy,” she much preferred “Jack” or a variant of it. Who knew why.

“If it isn’t the delightful Eliza Schuyler.”

“Soon to be Hamilton.” She wiggled her left hand, where Alexander had placed a silver band not too long ago.

“Right.” He paused and took a look at their three canvases all set up. “Well, the video I selected didn’t require us to prep our canvases with a different color, so that’s good. Why don’t we get started?” John reached over to tap the screen, and the video started. Soon Eliza was starting to move her brush across her canvas.

Though she did find Bob Ross’ voice to be soothing, and the motion of sweeping her brush against the canvas to be calming, she also felt as though she wasn’t painting a picture of the mountain they were supposed to be painting. Rather, it looked like an abstract version of a mountain.

It appeared Alexander wasn’t having much luck either, as he couldn’t quite keep up with Bob Ross, and let out several groans of frustration over the course of twenty minutes.

“Maybe we should pause the video?” he said, straightening out his paint-splattered t-shirt. “I can’t keep up!”

John laughed a little. “Okay, Lex, I think I can arrange that.” He reached over and tapped the screen before pausing it. “There, do you need me to rewind?”

“Uh, sure, I’m not sure what I was supposed to do.”

Eliza giggled, before returning to her painting. Sure, it wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was shaping up to be good, and it was her first try. (After all, one must not be too harsh on themselves when working with oil paints.) Though she didn’t really like the mess it caused; there was paint everywhere and she was sure that was not how painting was supposed to go.  _ Oh well, c’est la vie _ , she thought to herself, smiling.

Her thoughts also travelled as she worked on the painting. There was the thing they’d planned to do, which she wanted to do today, so that they could start planning later. But there was also the ring on her finger. Yes, she had said yes, yes she knew since maybe a month ago that Alexander was the one, but there was still the feeling of nervousness that she couldn’t shake. What if she was making a mistake? What if she was wrong? She wanted it but she also didn’t know what the future held.

For some reassurance, she quietly grasped Alexander’s hand. He looked up at her and smiled as well. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just . . . thinking.”

“Okay.” He placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Though it was a simple gesture, it calmed Eliza greatly, and she returned to her painting, giggling inwardly, like she was thirteen again. Ah, yes, Alexander was truly the one.

~*~

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t as bad as Alexander had originally thought it was, but it still wasn’t the best. “How long will this take to dry?”

“Eh . . . a couple days, a couple weeks, depends on how much paint there is.” John frowned. “In this cause probably a couple days?”

“Jeez, that’s a long time.”

“Small price to pay for a recreation of a Bob Ross painting.”

He laughed a little. “A terrible recreation.”

“But a recreation nonetheless.” John slung an arm around Alexander, and stared at the painting. “Y’know, I’m getting some abstract vibes from this. You’re putting Picasso to shame.”

“Sounds great.”

Eliza reappeared from wherever she was and kissed Alexander’s cheek, then John’s. “Thanks for somewhat guiding us through this, Jacks. It was really fun.”

“Even if you got paint all over you?”

“Even if I got paint all over me.” She laughed. “Still think Alex got it worse--oh, I think there’s some on your cheek still.”

Alexander gently touched the supposed spot, and shrugged. “Ah well, I’ll clean it off later.”

John laughed. “Well, do you guys want to stay over for a bit? I don’t mind, there’s really nothing I’m doing today.”

He smiled. “Sure, we’d love that.” After all, neither he nor Eliza had anything planned as well, and John was one of his favorite people to hang out with.

While John disappeared to go to the bathroom, he leaned over to touch Eliza’s hand, and the ring he’d lovingly placed just two weeks ago. “When do you think we should tell him?”

“I don’t know, but I’d like for it to be sometime today,” she replied, staring at the ring. Alexander had obsessed over it, probably annoying both Gilbert and Mac in the process, but he wanted it to be perfect. And then he’d thought to find something else, because there was also someone else he wanted in his life forever.

“Sure.” He stared at the door John disappeared through. When he first met John, it was as if he was a child again. John might as well have been the only one he ever loved, for they were inseparable, and worked together well. But then there was Eliza, soft-spoken, brilliant Eliza, who charmed him from the moment he first set eyes on her. He thought it impossible to love both, but he did, even though they were practically opposites of each other. John Laurens, wild, serious, and passionate. Eliza, silent, observant, and hardworking. Yet they too, worked well together (though he knew they didn’t care for each other romantically). As their relationship grew, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with the both of them.

Even though he proposed to Eliza, he also wanted to propose to John, because that was fair, and he knew John deserved it. He’d already talked it over with Eliza, who thought it the best course of action.  _ “He’ll say yes. I know he will, he’s crazy about you,”  _ she had said. Deep down, he knew it to be true, but he was also nervous.

When John reentered, Alexander grabbed his wrists, sure that his face was as red as a tomato. “John, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”  _ Oh God, that sounds weird. He’s gonna figure it out from that sentence alone. _ Yet he continued. He said he’d do it today. He would. “Well, from the moment I met you, I was sure I was in love. You’re kind, you’re fun to be around, and you’ve been here for me whenever I needed it. I know sometimes you feel like you’re playing second fiddle to Eliza, but I promise that I love both of you equally. I’m sorry that you’ve felt neglected, and I want to apologize for that. None of you will be more important than the other, and I just want you to know that. I love you John, and oh my God, I’m rambling . . .” He took a deep breath, pulled out the ring Gilbert, Mac, Ned, and Tench had all helped him buy. “What I’m trying to say is, John Laurens, both you and Eliza are my entire world. I’d like for you both to marry me, so that I may be the happiest man on Earth.” Alexander wasn’t sure if he should get down on one knee, but he did anyway, because cliches were fun.

John simply stared at him for a moment. He felt so nervous, wanting to hear the answer. 

“Alex,” he said, seeming as though he was trying to choose his words carefully. “I--I don’t know . . .” He stammered for a bit, before closing his mouth.

“Take your time, Eliza said, leaning against the wall she was closest to.

He took a deep breath and let out a little sob. “I--yes. I don’t know . . . we’d need to--to work on some things, but. Yes.” He nodded. “My God, absolutely, yes Alexander, I will marry you, of course.”

Alexander laughed a little, probably from the pure euphoria he was feeling. As he slipped the ring onto John’s finger, he looked into his eyes, and smiled brightly. John picked him up and twirled him around, laughing and sobbing all at once. A minute later Eliza was hugging them too, and John quietly pressed his lips to Alex’s, and he couldn’t have asked for more.

~*~

Eliza thought in numbers and years since important events.

It had been a year since Angelica and Frances were born, three years since Philip was born, five years since she, Alexander, and John had gotten married, six years since Alexander proposed to them, sixteen years since she’d met John, and nineteen years since she’d first met Alexander.

She laughed quietly to herself as she placed the twins in their crib. Nineteen years. It was crazy to think that she’d known Alexander for that long. And yet, here she was with three kids and a sparkling ring.

As she walked back downstairs, she found Alexander carrying Philip in while Old Peggy (named affectionately for her sister) ran in after them with John at her heels. “Back so soon?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“Well, this little artist couldn’t wait to paint with Daddy, so we’re back a little earlier than expected,” Alexander replied. Philip giggled excitedly as he waved his arms.

“I wanna paint!” he crowed, and Eliza laughed. Philip was set down and he ran off towards the living room where they would set up for painting.

“Are you gonna join them?” she asked, fondly watching Philip help set up the canvas with John.

He snorted. “No, I think I’ve had enough frustrations with painting for a lifetime. You?”

“Maybe. If it doesn’t get too dirty.”

“Thanks for reminding me that we have to clean any mess up.”

“It’ll be worth it.”

He laughed. “Yes, yes it will.”

She watched as John taught their son how to hold the paintbrush, and how to clean it off. (Philip wasn’t working with oil paints just yet, that was a bit too dangerous, especially with the paint thinner.) As they watched their brilliant, bubbly son, Alexander linked hands with her. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he asked.

“I should be asking that question,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Nineteen years.” When he looked confused, she added, “It’s been nineteen years since I first met you.”

He blinked. “Wow. That’s a long time.”

“I know.” A smile spread across her face. “Almost two decades. Almost two decades of knowing you.”

Alexander laughed and kissed her. “Amazing.”

Eliza leaned into him. It was truly amazing, and she felt so lucky to have known these two men for so long. She felt happy in this moment, and it was boosted not five minutes later when Philip ran up to her with his newest creation.

“Look I drew you and me and Papa and Daddy and Peggy and Angie and Fanny!” he said, holding up the picture. Though it would’ve been described as crudely drawn, Eliza thought of it as a masterpiece all the same.

“That’s wonderful!” she said, scooping the boy up. “I’m so proud of you, my little artist.”

“Hey, he’s my artist too!” John retorted, laughing.

“This, young man, is going up on the refrigerator,” Alexander announced, ruffling Philip’s hair. Philip cheered excitedly, which elicited a bout of laughter from the three of them.

She felt so happy. Philip had drawn his family. Her family.  _ Their  _ family. Their big family, whom she cherished so much. And to think that this all came to be on a day just like this, where they were spending the day painting.

Life was truly marvelous sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe i'll include more phillip, angelica, and frances at a later date who knows
> 
> anyways as always, let me know what you think!


	3. Day 3: Seashells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexander discovers a whole new world, or at the very least, a mermaid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's not quite a the little mermaid au, but . . . oh who am i kidding it's a the little mermaid au.
> 
> tis historical hamliza, corresponding image is [here!"](https://www.instagram.com/p/CIZMMYhDlkh/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) probably won't be doing these everyday as i have finals coming up.

_ "i want to be where the people are / i want to see / want to see 'em dancin . . . wish i could be part of that world"  
_ "part of your world,"  _ the little mermaid _

It would be an understatement to say that Alexander despised life in the palace. It was too stuffy, too uptight, and he hated people telling him what to do. His brother handled it fine--he did not. All his life, all he ever wanted to do was explore, yet he couldn’t do that as a prince. It was said that the young Prince Alexander was very curious as a child, and it appeared to have persisted into adulthood.

“What ails you today, my friend?” Mac asked, coming up to him, where he was leaning against the window and sighing.

“What ails me? Everything, perhaps. Maybe it’s being stuck in this castle all day. Maybe it’s being forced to study these old texts that bore me to death. Maybe it’s a lingering anger from the way Duke Jefferson treated me yesterday.” He sighed again, burying his face in his hands. “I just want to get out of this damn castle! And its grounds!”

Mac patted his back consolingly. “If it’s any comfort to you, Jack, Tench, and I are going to go hunting. You can come along, that way you’re not stuck in here, at the very least.”

“Thank you, you’re a good friend.”

“I should hope so, we’ve been friends for how many years now?”

Alexander chuckled. Yes, he and Mac went back many years, ever since they were probably both three years old or so. James McHenry, as he was formally known, was the son of two nobles that Alexander had already forgotten the names of, and was introduced as a potential playmate for the young prince. They got along stunningly well, pulling pranks together, studying together, and being very close friends. The only other people Alexander got along with better were Edward Stevens (or Neddy, an affectionate nickname retained from past days), and his own brother.

“Well, we’re about to head out now. Gonna wait for you to change into the proper attire.” With that, Mac left.

Within a couple minutes, he’d thrown together something appropriate for hunting. It was one of his favorite pastimes, mostly because it got him out of the castle (but not the grounds). It also meant he could spend time with his friends, something that was becoming increasingly rare as he got older.

“Ah look, there’s His Royal Highness!” Mac called from where he was sitting on top of his horse. “Gracing us with his very presence!”

“Please don’t, he grumbled. “I’ve had enough of some guy listing out all my names and titles, while I quietly fall asleep in the background.”

Tench cleared his voice and said (with his best “old guy” impression), “May I present, His Royal Highness, Alexander Hamilton, the Prince of Dorvaughn, the Duke of Minthria, the--”

Alexander cut him off by pretending to snore. “God, no, stop, do you know how  _ boring  _ it is? I’d much rather eat my own breeches.”

“There’s a fun dare for Truth or Dare Night,” John Laurens called from where he was.

Mac grimaced. “Ew, no, clothes are to be worn, not eaten!”

“Can’t back out of a dare, Mac, remember the rules?” John retorted. Mac simply groaned.

“We should be going, the deer aren’t going to wait for us,” Tench said. He gave a wave of his hand, and soon the four of them (plus some servants and attendees) were riding into the forest that were part of the castle’s hunting grounds.

Alexander loved riding on his horse. It gave him a sense of freedom he never had while inside the castle. Ever since he was young, he looked forward to the riding lessons, and now that he could ride a horse proficiently, he desperately looked for excuses to be outside, riding, away from any responsibilities and away from the suffocating tomb that he was supposed to call home.

He spotted a rabbit and began running after it, with some dogs at his heel. “Alex! Where are you going?” called Mac, but Alexander wasn’t really paying attention, for now he could see that if he followed this rabbit, he’d get out of the castle grounds.

“Alex!” The cries did nothing. He was going to find some semblance of freedom, if only temporary. Damn the consequences.

Unfortunately, he was so focused on finding freedom that he neglected to see the dock and when his horse stopped he was launched off into the ocean. When he resurfaced, his horse was running back into the woods.

“Wait, Nevis, come back! Nevis!” He groaned. “Dammit.”

While he climbed out of the water and onto the dock, he thought of ways to make it back to the castle. Though he hated it, he also didn’t know the land of Dorvaughn very well, having only traversed it twice in his life. He didn’t want to be lost out here.

What he didn’t know, when he was pondering his choices, was that a head had surfaced from beneath the waves, and was staring with fascination at him.

~*~

For the longest time, there had been tales of those living underneath the seas. Women with the voices of angels and tails of fish, who lured sailors to their deaths with their mournful songs. The sunken city, its people cursed by something otherworldly to forever live beneath the waves, transformed into half-people, half-fish.

Of course, legends were legends, and myths were myths, and stories were often greatly exaggerated, but there was a thriving city of merpeople living on the ocean floor. No one knew where they came from, but the people of Atlantis had lived in the ocean expanse around Dorvaughn for centuries, perhaps even millennia.

Over the years, leadership changed hands plenty of times, but Atlantis was now firmly under the rule of the High Duke and Duchess, from the noble house of Schuyler. Philip Schuyler had won the duel when he and his sister were chosen by the Unknown to fight for the crown, a time honored tradition. And when he did, everyone swore loyalty to him, as they had for so many other High Dukes. In turn, he promised to be loyal to the citizens of Atlantis, and was crowned a week later (well, a human week later).

(These names have been translated, of course, from the language of Atlantis, to a rough approximation of what they would be in English. Although no one has figured out what the language of Atlantis is called, exactly.)

Philip and his lovely wife Catherine (the High Duchess) had in total fifteen brilliant children, the eldest three of whom were foretold to be chosen by the Unknown. It is the second-eldest of these three, Elizabeth Schuyler, that the story now focuses on.

~*~

“Ooh, there’s another one!” Peggy called from where she was. “D’you think they’ll ask one of us out?”

“Not if Dad can help it,” Eliza joked back.

Her sister huffed. “Well, it’s almost time for me to graduate, and it’s very nearly time for the Transformation to be complete, so I don’t see why I can’t date a couple merpeople here and there!”

“It’s because maybe one day, you’ll inherit the throne, and then you’ll have to choose someone to merge your bloodline with,” Angelica said, swimming over to them. “You know what Mom said, your firstborn will have an equal chance to inherit your throne even if they’re not born of your spouse or consort. So if they’re of weak blood, your bloodline will falter and it’ll look bad on you.”

“Well that’s a dumb rule,” Peggy retorted, sticking her tongue out. “I’m nearly an adult by Atlantis standards and if I want to fuck that merman over there I can.”

Eliza rolled her eyes, before returning to the book in front of her. She had been careful to sneak it out of the palace’s catacombs, knowing that neither her father nor her mother would take kindly to her reading this sort of thing. It was a book about humans, and how they lived above sea. She had also been teaching herself how to read English, a human language.

“ . . . and so I think John will be a great spouse, or consort at the very least,” Angelica said. “Eliza, what do you think? Eliza?”

Peggy snorted. “She’s reading  _ that  _ book again.”

“Oh, sweet Poseidon.” Angelica swam over to Eliza. “You know if Dad catches you reading this he’ll have a fit.”

“That’s why I won’t let him catch me,” she hissed back, dodging her sister’s attempt to grab the book out of the hands. “Besides, why are human things even banned in Atlantis?”

“Eliza!” She looked around nervously. “Don’t--mention--that-- _ word _ !”

“What, hu--”

“Don’t!”

“Well, if someone would tell me why, I wouldn’t be mentioning that word!”

Angelica gritted her teeth. “They’re dangerous, Eliza, and you’d do very well to stay away from them. Or anything related to them.”

She rolled her eyes. “And how do you know?”

“Because we’ve been told that, many times, especially by Mom and Dad!”

“Then you don’t know that for sure.” Eliza swam away, fuming. “I don’t need to be babied. I know how to be careful!”

_ This is all dumb,  _ she thought, swimming towards the surface with no intentions of anything.  _ Peggy had a point--she’s very nearly an adult. And I’ve already completed my Transformation--and received my armband! I’m not a child. _

Her angry thoughts continued as she swam towards the surface. She peeked out, making sure no one spotted her (after all, she knew how to be careful). However, she was not expecting to see that. Letting out a small gasp, she ducked back down underneath the water. A human! How fascinating. She peeked out of the water to take a closer look. He seemed to have long, flowing red hair (not uncommon for those who lived under the water), and startling blue, almost purple (which were very much unheard of). Eliza giggled a bit. He was actually kind of handsome.

Suddenly he turned around, and she yelped quietly before diving back down. Surely he didn’t hear her, right?

She began to back away slowly in the water. Even though she’d never seen what humans could do, she was still scared. What if he tried to hurt her? Still . . . a real life human . . .

Her curiosity got the best of her though, and she peeked her head above water again. He seemed to be . . . lost? Like he didn’t know where he was.  _ Does he need help? _

His head turned towards her again. Oh man, this time he definitely heard her. She voiced her thoughts out loud  _ again _ . Like the doofus she was.

They both screamed, and the human scrambled to get to his feet as she defensively brought up a wall of water.

“Wait a minute,” the human said, after recovering from his shock. “You can manipulate water?”

She nodded, her wall still up. Hopefully she understood him correctly.

The human didn’t seem scared, or angry, or any of that. Instead, he seemed in awe. “Wow.”

“U-Uh, are you lost?” she asked in her best English.

“Yeah,” he replied sheepishly. “I was chasing a rabbit and then I saw a way to get out . . . and then I didn’t notice this dock. Now my horse is probably back at the castle and I don’t know my way out here.”

She frowned. Technically she had read about this land (Dorvaughn, or whatever it was called), but she didn’t know her way around it either. “Uh . . .”

“It’s okay,” he said, waving her off. “My friends will probably come searching for me soon. That, or my parents. Anyways, I’m Alexander! What’s your name?”

Eliza panicked. She didn’t know how to translate her name into English. “Uh . . . uh . . . [Elizabeth].”

Alexander looked confused, so she tried her best to translate. “E . . . Eliz. Lizza. Lizabeth.”

His eyebrows furrowed in concentration until his eyes lit up. “Oh! Elizabeth!”

She nodded with a small smile on her face. “Elizabeth.”

“Nice name.” He suddenly jolted a bit. “Oh shit, I can hear horses. Must be the castle guards looking for me. Maybe you should go. Nice meeting you, Elizabeth!” He reached out a hand, which she took, and he quickly pressed a kiss. “We’ll meet again, maybe.” He ran off into the woods before she could say anything.

_ Wow _ , she thought as she swam back to Atlantis.  _ A real life human. Who talked with me. Wow.  _ She was so excited, she barely registered Peggy and Angelica’s worried question. No, no, all that mattered right now was Alexander. Maybe she could use him to prove once and for all that humans were not dangerous.

This day had become so much more exciting.

~*~

As the weeks passed on, Alexander found himself sneaking out of the castle more and more to find his secret beau, as Mac so often called it.

“Off to meet your secret beau again, are you, Alex?” he called after Alexander quickly pulled on some hunting clothes.

“She’s not my ‘secret beau,’ she’s just--” He silently cursed himself, knowing he’d given Mac more ammunition to tease him with.

“Ah, young love, what a wonderful thing,” he replied.

“You’re the same age as me.”

“Still.”

He gritted his teeth. “Shut up and help me.”

“Sure thing.” He slung his arm around Alexander’s shoulders. “What say we go for another, hunting trip, shall we say?”

“Sounds excellent.” Alexander grinned.

As they traversed the woods to find the very path that took him to the docks, Mac kept pestering him about this lady he was sneaking out to meet. “Well, surely she’s one of the seaside ones?”

He shrugged.

“Oh, come on, Alexander, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. The seaside ladies are rather charming, if I do say so myself.”

“I mean, she’s kind of a seaside lady? But not really.”

“Whatever do you mean? Oh--”

For Mac had accidentally spotted Elizabeth (or Eliza, as he’d come to call her), when Alexander would’ve told him to stop and wait while he had his dalliance. Unfortunately, he’d been too distracted.

“Alexander . . . are you dating a mermaid?” he asked, while he and Eliza looked at each other nervously.

“No!” He rubbed his temples. “I’m not dating Eliza!”

“Ah, you’re on a first name basis with her.” He stared inquisitively at the mermaid. “Well, she seems nice enough.”

Alexander hopped off his horse, and approached the docks. “Think she’s scared of you, Mac.”

Eliza only shrank away from the docks, further proving his point.

Mac pulled on his reins, letting the horse turn around, before he rode back into the forest.

Alexander turned back to Eliza, grinning sheepishly. “I--ah, sorry, he wasn’t supposed to see you.”

“No, no, it’s just that I’ve been taught humans were dangerous. Kind of instinct.” Her English had been steadily improving since their first meeting, and her voice was rather cute.

“I just wish there was a way to contact you that didn’t involve either one of us sneaking out--or putting you at risk of being exposed to someone other than Mac or I.” Already he was risking punishment by sneaking out, and Eliza was too, as she’d told him how even the word “human” was forbidden to speak in Atlantis. What the ruler of Atlantis would do to her if they’d found out about this meeting, he didn’t want to imagine.

Eliza’s eyes lit up. “Maybe there  _ is  _ a way!” She dove back underwater, and it seemed like eternity until she resurfaced.

“It’s a magic conch,” she said, holding up what seemed to be a glittery shell that shimmered with all the different colors of the ocean. “It’s used to communicate with other merpeople, but maybe it works on land. Maybe you can use this to talk with me.”

Alexander’s eyes widened. “Uh, you want that?” Okay, maybe that was a stupid question. He’d been talking to her for the past several weeks now. But the question still made him flush. Was Eliza asking him out?

“I mean, it gets lonely under the sea. I have my brothers and sisters, but I haven’t seen a human before you! I wanna . . . know more, I guess.”

He smirked. Seemed like Eliza shared more in common with him than he thought. “Well, in that case . . .” He took the conch shell, and held it tightly. “Mayhaps we should test it out?”

“We should.”

To their surprise, it worked, and so Alexander went on his merry way back home. Tonight, he would dream of the world underneath, of dazzling blues and greens, of a certain mermaid with a flashy green tail and eyes bright as the sun.

Tonight, Alexander would dream of Elizabeth, the mermaid who stole his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you shall be getting another chapter today bc i was tired and didn't update yesterday lmao
> 
> as always let me know what you think! i crave comments and kudos


	4. Day 4: Candlelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexander and Eliza have a little fun when the children are asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonjour this is the long awaited (not really) smut chapter! i tried to make it as non-explicit as i could but alas it's probably enough to be marked 'm'. if you want to skip it, it starts at "His breeches were quickly thrown off" and ends at "So they got to work."
> 
> there is no corresponding image because i'm not comfortable with drawing smut lmao. i hope you can understand.

It was days like these that got them in the mood. The rainy days, when the sky was dark, and it was cold, and they were anticipating snow. Those days, when it was almost stormy but not quite, when the bed was warm, and the candles illuminated the house in a soft glow of orange warmth.

Days like these were Eliza’s favorite. Not just because of what happened under the sheets, but because it meant that their family could stay inside, by the fireplace, and stay there, not needing to speak to know that inside, it was safe, it was warm. And she could stay there, wrapped up in Alexander, until it was time for bed and she could drag him to theirs, reveling in each other, in the way Alexander would cup her breasts gently, the way she brushed his hair aside and kissed his forehead., and the way they fitted together so perfect, him against her, her against him.

As Eliza finished scrubbing the floor (she’d have to remind Junior not to track in mud from outside), she looked outside the window. So it would be another one of those days. The days themselves were getting shorter, and already the light inside the house was dim, as the dying rays of the sun washed over the land.

The sound of a match being struck alerted her to Alexander’s presence. He lit one candle, then two, then three, placing them in various rooms across the house. “Another one of those nights, hm?” he asked, looking outside the window as well.

“I suppose it is.”

“How fast do you think we can get the children to bed?”

“You’re impatient,” she replied, raising an eyebrow.

He kissed her forehead gently. “Can I not wish to love my wife, as she should be loved?”

“You can, of course.”

“Then allow me to.”

She laughed softly. “Well then, let’s see what our rascals are up to.”

Turns out they weren’t up to much (though she did catch James trying to change the times on the clocks). As it stood, Philip was shaping up to be a respectable young man. The fireplace was already lit, and so all six of them piled on the couch, attempting to get comfortable in the sea of limbs.

“Mama, Junior’s shoving me!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Boys, that’s enough,” she said, casting a stern look at Junior and James. Though she loved the two dearly, it was clear that four and six year olds were a lot of work.

The five of them listened while Philip jabbered on about what he learned in school, then when Angie talked about the bird she found today, and then to Junior and James’ arguing. Again.

“I sure hope this doesn’t continue when they’re older,” she sighed to Alexander. He chuckled.

“The day those two stop fighting is the day we grow wings.”

She groaned inwardly. “Oh, have mercy.”

All too soon (at least, to the children) it was time for bed. And so, impatient as ever, Alexander led her to their bed, pressing kisses softly on her lip, on her neck, on her cheek. “It has been too long since I’ve done this.”

“If I recall correctly,” she said, gasping a bit as he lingered on her collarbone, “we only partook in this just a month ago.”

“Oh, damn the facts and let me ravish you,” he growled, mock annoyance on his face as she smirked. She would’ve made another quip had he not pressed his lips to hers, letting her go deeper as they held each other, desperately wanting one another.

“Who’s the impatient one now?” he asked when she whined and pawed a bit at his coat.

She huffed. “Shut up and let me undress you.”

~*~

Perhaps he was just stupid, but Alexander had never gotten the hang of undoing Eliza’s stays. Oftentimes there would be knots, and he’d tangle the strings, and Eliza would have to do it all herself. Today was not an exception.

He’d taken off the dress well enough, but the damn stays! How Eliza did them up every day was still a mystery to him. And so his lovely wife undid the lacing all by herself, before letting him take the stays off and place them gently on a dresser.

“My darling Betsy,” he crooned, as she pushed him onto the bed (though not forcefully). “Have I ever told you how happy you make me?”

She smiled. “You could stand to mention it a few more times.”

“Then I will. You make me the happiest man in the world, and I am so lucky to have you.”

“Not as lucky as I am to have you.”

He laughed. Still the worry of not being enough for Eliza was always at the back of his mind. A poor bastard orphan, desperately trying to make his way up so as to prove himself. A bastard marrying one of the most sought after women in New York. How did he manage to woo her? Alexander knew he was so, so lucky to have Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton, the love of his life, beside him. He loved her, he loved her soft wavy brown hair, her charming black eyes, the way her mouth quirked upwards when she smirked at him. He loved her melodious voice, her wrinkled nose whenever she tried to speak French, her deft fingers skipping over the piano keys, agile and dexterous as ever. And he loved when he could give himself up to her, and love her as much as he possibly could, because she was Eliza and he loved her.

Though he loved her, he was a bit desperate for that touch, since it was, after all, one of those days. He arched a bit into her touch, her kisses, as she pulled his shirt off of him, revealing his bare chest. “Eliza,” he whined.

“Shh,” she said, silencing him with a kiss. From there, her kisses trailed down to his neck, then his collarbone, then his chest. Later, he would find several bruises along the pathway.

His breeches were quickly thrown off, either by him or Eliza he did not care. He was pushed down onto the bed, and groaned softly as she began rubbing up against him. “Eliza,” he whined. “Please . . .” She only laughed, before beginning to tease him more. “I’ll . . . I’ll get you back for that,” he gasped, glaring at her for dragging it out.

Another laugh. “Your complaining will only drag it out longer.” With that, she got up, and found a candle, lighting it, before placing it by the bedside. “I love it when your face is glowing from candlelight,” she said, blushing.

“I hope it does as much wonders for me as it does for you.”

She smiled softly and pressed one more kiss to his chest, letting her fingers trail down it, before saying softly, “It does, my darling Alexander.”

Alexander would’ve said something had she not begun to do something wonderfully with her tongue. After many years of doing this, they knew exactly what the other liked. He groaned softly, attempting to prop himself up so he could run his fingers through Eliza’s hair the way they both liked.

“Yes, like that--oh!” He tried desperately to quiet himself, for the children were asleep and it would be very awkward to explain to them what sex was should one of them come in. The door was closed, thankfully, but the walls . . . well, he didn’t know how thin they were.

When that was all said and done, he’d braced his hands on Eliza’s shoulders, and leaned in, shuddering a bit. “Wonderful,” he breathed, burying his face into her shoulders as she got up.

“Anything for you,” she replied, smiling sweetly. “If you’d return the favor . . .”

“I thought you’d never ask.” With that, he got to work, gently caressing Eliza’s thighs, peppering kisses on them, and slowly moving his tongue around. A small smile graced his features as he heard the gasping and quiet moans. Unlike himself, Eliza was not one to be loud, but she showed her pleasure all the same. He never got bored of knowing that she came undone at his touch, knowing that he did this to her.

As her orgasm passed, she again pushed Alexander backwards onto the bed. “I think,” she gasped, her voice still a bit shaky, “we have a little more in us.”

“I think we do,” he replied.

So they got to work.

~*~

Tonight actually was a stormy night, but Eliza did not mind, for when they finished and cleaned up, they snuggled in their bed, holding each other tight, letting the candle slowly melt away, the dimming light casting a warm glow upon them both.

“I hope we didn’t wake the children up,” she mumbled, her head pressed against Alexander’s chest.

He shook his head. “I doubt it.”

“With your noise? I’m surprised Philip didn’t march right in!”

“Hey! I wasn’t that loud.”

She laughed quietly. “Not as loud as you usually are.”

He looked mock offended. “Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton--”

A kiss silenced him easily enough. “Only teasing, my love.”

Yes, days like these were Eliza’s favorite. A chance to hold her family close, and to love Alexander as he deserved it. She had known, several years ago, when she first met him, that he was the one. And she knew now, that she would stay with him forever, until death did them part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always leave your feedback in the comments! i am happy to see them.


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